#and he knew he was going to die he knew that from the beginning of the episode and then he just. did.

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 13

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; brief mention of sexual content; kidnapping; violence; guns

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

"Now.... was that so hard?" Jax teased as he tossed your phone on the ground. The crackling noise indicating that your screen probably shattered when it hit the hard floor. He chuckled as he walked around you, patting your shoulder like he was your friend. You tried to shrug him off, but he only squeezed your shoulder hard, making you wince.

You glanced at Andrei, seeing the same bored expression on his face. The only movement he made was when he shifted his weight as he gazed back at you with narrow eyes.

"What-what are you gonna do to him?" you asked. Terrified of what the response would be but desperately needing to know.

Jax hummed, "You'll just have to wait and see now, won't you?" He said as he leaned forward that his face was right in front of you. "I'm sure... you'll want to talk-"

"You need to make this quick," Andrei interrupted Jax's toying with you.

"Patience, my friend," he faced him, "You'll get what you came for," he said before facing you again, "Now.... let's make sure your caring husband gets to really see you."

"He won't believe you," you tried to convey with anger in your voice. But that only made him laugh again.

"I think the text I just him will."

************************************************************************

When Simon got out of the car, he looked around, noticing how deserted the neighborhood seemed. The drive to the place you texted was far out of the city. He immediately knew that this would only go two ways. He either would make sure you got out of there alive or you both would die. He didn't even want to think about the second option. There was no way he was going to allow you to die... not while he still could make sure you would be happy one day.

"Hands where I can see them," a voice said. Simon turned to his right, seeing two men dressed in all black come out of the dark shadows with guns drawn at him. He didn't recognize them and briefly wondered how the hell they got a hold of you. But if he did anything now, who knows if he would find you in time, so he raised his hands in the air before one of them slowly approached him.

With the other keeping his weapon pointed at Simon, the second man patted his clothes, finding and pulling out the two guns and a knife he had on him. When nothing else was found, the man shoved him in the direction of a damn near abandoned building across the street, "Move."

As they stepped through the doors, Simon saw exactly why it looked abandoned on the outside. The hot stench of sweat, sex, and drugs circulated the air around random bodies - including his.

It was a prostitution ring.

"Keep moving," the man said as he shoved Simon through the crowd of women and men toward a door in the back of the building. A guard who stood in front of it opened the door and let them through, leading down a flight of stairs to what looked like a basement. The cold air would have made him shiver if he wasn't fuming inside.

They strolled up to a large door, and one of the men banged on it twice before yelling something in an accent Simon immediately recognized.

Russian.

You had been captured by Russians?

A few seconds later, the door swung open, and he was shoved harshly into the dim room before he was hit on the back of his left knee, forcing him to kneel.

You screamed... Well tried to. Simon glanced up to meet your wide eyes as you tried wiggling out of the chair that you were still tied to. Duct tape had been taped over your mouth.

"Well.. well.. well.... look who we have here," Jax said from the side of the room as the two men also walked inside and closed the door. He drew his weapon and pointed it at Simon'.

The moment his eyes met Jax, he felt rage rush through his entire body. You even saw the expression on his face. He was out for blood. But this only made the man smirk.

"Fuckin' bastard," Simon whispered, only for Jax to hit him across the face with his gun.

You yelled out again, only for the sound to be muffled by the tape over your mouth.

"Can't tell you how long I've waited to do that," Jax said like it was a weight lifted off his shoulders just because he smacked your husband.

Tears started to run down your face, and you continued to try and make any noise. Simon quickly glanced at you, his eyes softening briefly, before looking around and seeing another man standing in the room - Andrei.

"Restrain him," Jax ordered, making the previous guards pull Simon to his feet before forcing him into a chair that was a couple of feet in front of you and tying him up. They even yanked his balaclava off of his face, "There.... just like your counseling sessions, yeah? The two of you sitting next to each other... talking about how he cheated on you," he chuckled.

Simon shot him a death glare, remaining silent as the man stood between the two of you. This was nothing new... Simon had gone through hell and back when he was captured by Roba years ago. He had been shot at plenty of times and taken many hits, bruises, and wounds since he joined the military. He wasn't about to give the fucking guy the satisfaction of saying anything.

You wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. Regardless of what happened between you and Simon, it was none of his fucking business. But you also was so confused on how he knew so much about what you and your husband was going through..... it went beyond just the damn videos.

"But let's talk about how you cheated on him, shall we?" Jax continued as he looked at you with an evil smirk on his face.

Your eyes widened at him so big that he chuckled before glancing at Andrei. You weren't the only one shocked, though. Simon's body tensed at what Jax had said, eyebrows drawing together when he saw your reaction.

The TV that was next to the desk suddenly turned on, making everyone in the room glance in its direction as a video popped up on the screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you looked at yourself, straddling Andrei. Your muffled yells made Jax laugh, but you wanted to kill him.

Simon's eyes stayed glued to the screen as he watched you go from straddling Andrei to laying your back as he attached his mouth to you. The moans that escaped your lips made his heart stop; his mind going blank for a moment. To know that the same man who pulled those moans out of you was standing in the same room as him wasn't what pissed him off anymore.... it was the fact that he'd done it because this was all a game to them. Jax, Andrei, all of them. He honestly would have felt better if you had cheated on him with that guy from the club, even if it hurt him. At least you wouldn't have been fucking here, kidnapped.

The moment the video stopped, you locked eyes with Simon. Your puffy eyes made him internally broken, but his facial expression hadn't changed, and you didn't know if he was upset that you had gotten revenge for cheating on you... or if it was something else. You wanted to say that it meant nothing. That you were drunk and fucking mad at him... but you couldn't say shit with the tape still over your mouth.

"I have to say, she sounds.. so damn good. Doesn't she?" Jax teased as he asked everyone in the room. Even with Andrei not responding, since he was the one who had his tongue on you, Jax smiled at Simon like he had won or something, "How does it feel?" He walked and stood behind Simon as he leaned down so his face was almost next to his, looking at you, "Tell her." He demanded.

Simon's eyes never strayed away from yours as you continued to cry. The look on his face hadn't really changed, but his eyes told you exactly how he felt. The regret that ran through his soul.... he wished he could been a better man; a better husband. You didn't deserve any of this.. yet you stayed. You had wanted to work on your marriage even after the ugly truth came out. It was his fault, and he would forever kill himself over it. He would be grateful if you ever forgave him, promising to give you the entire world and more after he so much tore yours apart by cheating.

"I love you," he lowly said, making you cry even more. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart... for everythin'."

"Satisfying, isn't it?.. Finally realizing your mistakes?"

Simon finally tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jax, "Let her go."

He paused, acting as if he was thinking about something, "I thought about it," he teased, "but see... I can't do that. She's knows far too much... much more than our girl Williams," he joked - a terrible one that made both you and Simon shoot him the deadliest glare.

He raised his gun up, pointing it at you, making your eyes widen.

"Let her go, Jax," Simon raised his voice, "This is between me and you."

"Oh, it's not just me," he chuckled, "But I guess it would be easier to take you out first." He moved his gun to point it at Simon's temple.

You yelled through the tape and thrashed around as you tried to get out of the restraints. Your skin was probably raw at how much you rubbed at the ropes. You wanted to beg him not to shoot your husband.. you even tried to. But it was pointless.

"Say goodbye to your wife... Lieutenant."

Time felt like it slowed down as you and Simon looked at each other. He looked angry and sad, but no doubt love. He loved you for everything you had given him, everything you had done for him. And if this was the last time he'd see you... then so be it. He was ready... and you didn't want that. You weren't ready to leave him; to say goodbye.

The wails that came from your muffled lips had you choking on the saliva that bubbled up in your throat. You wanted to vomit so bad.

"Close your eyes love," Simon told you. You didn't want to. God you didn't want to. But you couldn't stomach the thought of seeing him die right in front of you, so you shut your eyes tight and waited for the loud popping sound of Jax's gun to go off.

I love you Simon, you muffled loud enough that you hoped he would understand you.

I was on the edge of my seat just writing this omg lol!

Like, comment, send feedback :)

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[jellyfishoreo1206]

First Light (Sebastian Solace x Reader)

Notes: Part Five of the series! The skrunkly goes out for a small trip :3 Also POV change! Felt like switching things up a bit (no Painter in this one, I'm SORRY 😢) You could tell I got REAL descriptive here folks.

This maybe a bit shorter than the others, but I'm happy with how this turned out! Never knew my AP English classes could help me with my writing!!

Chapter inspired by the song I Don't Want To See Tomorrow by Nat King Cole

Credit goes to @/cafekitsune for the dividers

"I don't get why we had. . ." A yawn interrupts his sentence, stretching the muscles in his back to relieve the tension that built over the night, ". . .to get up so early, Starfish." Another yawn threaten to leave his mouth, his features still dusted with the lingering essence of sleep as he followed behind you as you lead him to a hill near the house by the hand. His fluorescent eyes were slightly dimmed with the drooping of his eyelids, every so often rubbing his eyes as if to keep himself awake. He didn't have time to question why when you woke him up, all you muttered out to him was that it was six in the morning and you had something to show him.

"Oh shush. You'll see when we get there." There was a playful undertone to that sentence of yours, sparkling E/C eyes staring up at him with such a glee he couldn't yet understand, yet he smiled back; he'll never admit it, he'll die before he admits it because he knows it'll just make that ego of yours bigger, but he loves that smile of yours. Makes his stomach do summersaults as a light tingly sensation spreads across his face, coloring his face a slight turquoise.

Up at the top of the hill, you finally let go of his hand, already missing the warmth that you simply radiated in waves. The hill was of decent height—the whole thing was covered in wild grass and flowers, giving it a feeling that came out of a fantasy—giving them a view of the land around them, surveying the endless stretch of trees as their looming height gently sways to a music that only they could hear.

"Alright, what was so important that you had to wake me up this early?" His voice was full of mirth and sass, crossing his arms across his pajama-clad chest with his third placed above his hip, now fully awake and alert as he looks at you with a playfully raised eyebrow. You merely pointed towards the cloud-free horizon with a smile of giddy glee, the sky soon beginning to lighten in a flourish of colors.

All Sebastian could do was watch with absolute enchantment as the tiniest sliver of light peaked at the horizon, slowly rising bit by bit as the light slowly became brighter and brighter, its rays of light touching all it could as it washes the land over with a golden tint.

How long has it really been since I seen the sun rise? He truly didn't know, but he knows that it's been long if he was this immersed in something this simple. He glances in your direction, watching how those eyes of yours seemed to have become brighter as you watched the big ball of light rise well above the horizon with a bright smile that could rival the sun, the golden tint seemingly washing over you as if you were a deity sent down from above, a striking sight indeed.

Maybe it's the simple things that make moments like these truly beautiful. . .

He reaches for your hand with his eyes still fixed upon the sun, hands that were once used to kill and survive now renewed with a new purpose as they gently cradle your hand within his larger ones. . .

To love.

Turning away for the horizon, he drinks in your image as you merely continued to watch the sky with awe, blindly reaching for his to intertwine your fingers with his, giving two gentle squeezes. God how is it that you could break down his walls so easily?

He still remembers the time when you told him what those two squeezes meant after his curiosity was too much to bear; he didn't hate the gesture, no far from it, he merely just wondered why you did such a gesture. He still remembers how you smiled so sweetly at him when he finally asked, leaning down to shower all three of his hands with sugary sweet kisses that sent pulses of electricity through his nerves with a steady flush arising to his face.

"It means I love you, silly." Those honeyed words left your lips with such practiced ease. He has no idea how you could say such words with not a hint of hesitation to them.

You swear you accidentally broke him then. His eyes widened in flustered shock as his mouth repeatedly opened and closed to find the right words to respond to such a sentence; his brain becoming mush. And when his tongue finally worked, he fumbled over every single one of words, his face becoming a bright light of turquoise as his lure flickered rapidly.

He eventually used his hands to cover his face in embarrassment, telling you to stop saying such lies.

You merely doubled your efforts.

Honestly, if you had a super power, it's making Sebastian weak in the knees (Or tail?)

Wrapping his tail around your figure, he pulls you into his awaiting arms as they encircle your waist, snuggling you without an ounce of care as he showers your face with kiss after kiss. Giggles tumble out your lips at the sudden affection, wrapping your arms around his neck as you brought yourself closer to him.

The sun now raining down on you with its blessed light, giving warmth and a feeling of love.

Sebastian didn't pull away when he stopped his barrage of kisses on your face, merely leaning his forehead against yours, his lure dangling in-between the two of you as he gazes deep into your eyes with a look of fond tenderness.

"I love you so much, Starfish."

You broke out into a smile, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks as you placed a gentle kiss on his lips, "I love you too, Sebby."

Unless he sees it with you, he doesn't want to see tomorrow without you.

Last Part, Next Part (?)

[bastardbloods]

“A King’s Desire”

King Thranduil x female reader

──── You are a human, but you caught the attention of King Thranduil, and he is forcing you to marry him to continue his legacy.

(please read! This is my first time writing this, so please understand my poor wording, its a little bit short too 😭)

The moon rose pale over Mirkwood, bathing Thranduil's kingdom in a cold and silent light. Deep within his palace, made of stone and wood, you stood under the dim light of a candle flickering on the table in the royal chamber. Your dark hair framed a face filled with fire, but your hands trembled, your jaw clenched as the Elven king watched you from his throne of shadows.

"You have no right to do this to me," you whispered, breaking the oppressive silence that stretched between you. Your voice was laden with suppressed anger, though it trembled with anguish.

Thranduil’s gaze remained fixed on you, his expression unperturbed, as if your emotions could not pierce the cold armor that shielded him. His beauty was almost cruel, his fine, ethereal features as distant as the stars shining above the forest. The blue eyes that met yours felt like they were made of ice.

"You are luckier than you deserve," he replied, his tone as soft as it was deadly. "You will be my wife. The line of the Elven kings must continue, and the children you will bear me will be part of that eternity. Your will is not something I need to consider."

You clenched your fists, struggling to maintain your composure. Since being brought to this place, you had tried to escape, cried for help, even wept. But nothing had changed. Thranduil had chosen you. And in his absolute power, you knew no human could defy him.

"You are immortal," you said, your voice breaking. "Why do you care about my years? I am just a human who will live and die long before it even affects you."

A cold smile curved the Elven king's lips, not one of pleasure, but of condescension.

"Precisely for that reason," he said, rising slowly from his throne and approaching you. "I am not interested in a companion who lives forever. I am not interested in shared eternity. I am only interested in your blood, your body, which will be the vessel for my offspring. A brief bond, yes, but necessary."

Your heart pounded, and tears burned behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall in front of him. You would not give him that satisfaction. He could force your body, but he would never conquer your spirit.

"I will never be yours," you spat. "Not even when I am forced to carry your children in my womb."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at your defiance. It was rare to find such resistance in humans, and though his coldness did not waver, something in your passion sparked a flicker of interest in him. He stopped just a step away from you, leaning slightly so that your eyes met his.

"You are wrong," he whispered, his voice chilling. "You already are."

Without another word, he extended his hand, brushing your cheek with an unsettling gentleness. You shuddered at his touch, but you didn’t move away. There was nowhere to go. In that moment, your life had become a pale reflection of what it once was.

The following days passed in a grim routine. Despite your rejection, your fate was sealed. The elves at court dared not look you in the eye, but you could feel their gazes full of pity and disdain. Each day that passed, you felt yourself fading, becoming a shadow of the person you once were.

One night, as the wind blew through the trees and the leaves whispered promises of freedom, you stood staring into the void, feeling the oppression of your belly already beginning to swell. Thranduil entered the room, his steps as silent as death’s whisper. He approached you and leaned over the bed.

"This will be your legacy," he murmured, his fingers caressing the edge of your hair.

You said nothing, closing your eyes, resisting any form of emotional submission. You could carry his children in your body, but you would never carry Thranduil in your heart.

And in the darkness, where the stars could not reach, you swore that, though they could take everything from you, your spirit would always remain free.

(part 2?)

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Why Not Us?

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six |

CW: Memories of mass murder, some internalized dehumanization, survivor’s guilt

-

Misae made it to the little bedroom before the moon rose, thankfully. He nearly tripped over the strange mattress on the floor, the one they’d blown up with air and then thrown blankets and pillows on. It was meant to be his bed, he thought, which made sense.

Anaya might let him on the real bed, but not to sleep. Wolves, like dogs, slept on the floor. It would be lonely, but it would make sense. Almost nothing did, now. Sitting in chairs, eating pizza instead of having to shift to eat the raw meat thrown into the kennels, wearing clothes and being asked if he would like something to drink… they didn’t seem to know what he was, to understand. 

He could hear them now, Eden, Anaya, and Vanessa, from down the hall. They talked and laughed, and Misae felt hollowed out at the sound, wishing he could be there with them.

Maybe there would be more pizza.

He laid one hand on his stomach. It felt… almost rounded. He’d never eaten so much or so well, not in all the life he had lived. He hadn’t had to fight over any of it, either. There hadn’t been the need to snarl and posture, or crawl on his belly and lick at an older wolf’s mouth, hoping they’d give him a few scraps out of pity or some dim affection.

The moon’s slow rise made him restless, bouncing on his toes as he tried to decide where he could safely change. The room was small, but he could fit under the big bed if he was smart about it. 

But then the humans would get into the bed, and if the mattress dipped low it might force him back out.

The call to shift prickled under his skin, and Misae stripped his shirt and pants off before it could take hold and leave him confused and trapped in the cloth. He tossed the sweatpants and shirt onto the bed just as he felt his spine begin to bend.

It always felt so good, when the shift started. Like waking up after a good sleep, coming back to where you belonged. He had always been meant to walk on four legs, and the human side was only what he was allowed for good behavior.

He leaned over, a sensation like goosebumps running up and down his arms and legs, setting his hair on end. The healing wound in his leg throbbed but some of the pain felt more distant as he changed.

It wasn’t that the wound disappeared, it was only that his wolf body knew how it felt to be injured with silver far better than his human body did. It knew how to ignore the pain, how to keep moving, because to let the pain take you was to be singled out to die. Wolves who were too hurt to keep going were wolves that starved, his instincts knew it. Wolves who starved died.

Everyone died anyway. It hadn't mattered how good they were when Bill didn't want them any longer.

He shuddered and shoved that thought aside. He couldn’t think about his family, not now. It would overtake him and he’d just be trapped in the grave in his mind, even if his body was here still breathing.

He couldn’t think about dozens of flat blank eyes, frozen in mute horror. He couldn’t think about the warmth still lingering in the stiffening bodies pressed all around him, about how Nina had tried to cover him and hide him from the shots even as she had been bleeding to death herself. 

Had Nina been his real mother?

It was possible. Their fur was the same, their eyes were the same. But some of the other wolves had fur and eyes like his, too. But... maybe Nina had been his mother.

Maybe she had known it, if only at the end, and tried to save the one pup she could.

The humans had tried to ruin them to each other, make them hurtful and hateful, but the wolves had found a way to love, anyway. In secret, when it was safe, and at the end when nothing was safe and it didn’t matter any longer there was one more way to love that Bill couldn't take from them.

It made no difference if you loved when you would lose each other anyway. In the end, the werewolves had loved each other, and it hadn’t saved any of them.

Except him.

Misae closed his eyes, stretching his shifting muscles and forcing himself to leave the dead behind, for now anyway. For as long as he could. 

Bones cracked and broke beneath his skin, painlessly reforming. Misae dropped to a crouch and leaned his weight forward on his hands, feeling bare, vulnerable fingers change to rougher paw pads and clicking nails. He stretched his front legs until the muscles stretched and burned and sighed, contented by the feeling.

Canine teeth lengthened and his ears grew. He twitched one just to feel it, exhaling a rough sigh as his tongue briefly lolled out. Fur spread over skin like a blanket, a little patchy but still warming his chilly body, and the bed on the floor called to him. He was tired, and the killing back at Bill’s house kept trying to worm its way past his moments of comfort and warmth in this new place, with these new people.

If he laid still, it would catch up with him, and he didn’t want Anaya or Eden to hear how wolves mourned, how they cried. He didn’t know if they would still comfort him then, or if they would turn angry at the sounds, or learn to hate him. Bill’s family hated the sound of the mourning wolves, beat them for their weeping in human form or for their howls as wolves. 

Who knew what regular humans would do? 

Misae only knew that Anaya and Eden had been kind, so far. But so had Aaron, sometimes - Bill’s youngest son had been known to scratch behind a wolf’s ears when none of the other humans were looking. Even Austin had once bandaged Misae’s leg after he’d gotten it caught in a fence and bled.

That didn’t make them any kinder when the werewolves broke the rules, rules no one ever said out loud but simply expected the wolves to learn by being beaten when they were broken until they figured them out. It had never stopped Austin from calling them all names, or laughing when they fought.

Human kindness always had limits. 

Always.

Even as he became the first form he ever knew, the stalking werewolf that Bill had never been able to separate from the boy whose body the wolf shared, Misae knew he had to hide. Not from Anaya or Eden, who had already seen him as a wolf. Not because he feared them.

He had to hide because they didn’t know to fear him.

Misae’s nose turned black and scents exploded into the world around him. What had before been just the light smell of cleaning products and maybe a pumpkin-scented candle was now a collection of stories he could read in the air and along the ground. Vanessa had walked in here to set up the mattress, having forgotten to take her shoes off after getting the mail. Misae could smell the grass she had stepped on, scent the slight shift in her smell of frustration when it took a long time to get the air pump working to set up the mattress. He could smell, on the mattress, long months spent idle with no need to be used. The faintest smell of a camping trip, some time in the past - the last time the air mattress had been needed.

The way his sense of smell changed was always what gave away when it was time to find somewhere to hide, before the silver light could touch his fur and call to him. It would make him want to run, to howl and see if any other wolves were nearby to answer.

What would he do if they were?

He had known only his own family. He’d never seen any werewolves that didn’t huddle together in the kennels, fighting over the barest hints of kindness shown to them by Bill and his family. If he met a free wolf, he might simply lay down, show his belly, and wait for them to tear out his throat when they smelled the kennels on him. 

Misae paced restlessly around the small room, limping and trying to keep weight off his injured leg, snuffling against the ground, tracing the hints of Eden and Anaya in here and then following the softer smell of Vanessa until he found the closet door was cracked open.

Perfect. Like a den.

He had to paw at it, whining softly with his ears flat against his head, looking nervously at the patch of moonlight that seemed to head inexorably in his direction. His heart raced beneath his fur at the sight. 

Bill had always said, over and over again, never let the moonlight touch you. It was the only rule the humans told the werewolves, and taught to the pups before they were put into the main kennels. During the full moon, for three nights, they would huddle together inside big wooden boxes that formed a kind of den. Anyone caught outside the den, by Bill or by the cameras, would be punished.

It was the first thing Misae remembered learning, while still toddling around on four short legs, a few weeks after birth. Never let the moonlight touch you. He'd broken the rule running from the guns, from the grave of his family. He'd broken the rule running from Austin. But… that had been different, hadn’t it?

Hadn’t it?

Misae clambered clumsily over a pile of cardboard boxes, blowing harshly through his nose as things packed inside clattered around. He pushed at them with his snout until he had made for himself a sort of barrier, protecting him from the world outside this tiny space. He turned in a circle and then laid down, ears flat, shimmering amber-brown eyes watching the silvery light that cut across the bed through the open doorway.

Beneath his nose, soaked into the floorboards years ago, he could smell a hint of a rose perfume. Left by some other person, long before any of the familiar smells of Vanessa's life had entered this place.  

The scent made him shudder, heart going cold.

Bill's wife Ada wore rose perfume. 

The smell of roses, for the children in the puppy kennels, meant one of you might vanish that day. Ada sometimes took them, luring them out with treats and soft words until she could get the loop around their necks to pull tight, leading them on the leash inside.

She mostly brought them back, after sticking needles to take blood or give what she called 'medicine' that put the puppies to deep sleep and left them groggy and confused upon waking. She mostly brought them back.

But not always.

Rose perfume drifting on the air was sometimes all the warning they got before a pup disappeared. 

The memories made him tremble and he whined softly, but quieted the sound as fast as he could. It was something all of them learned, not just how to hide from the moonlight but also how to be so quiet that none of the men and women inside the house could hear and think of them.

They all learned how to be, if only temporarily, forgotten.

Now Misae was the only left for Bill and his family to remember. He wondered if Bill would come for him, still. Try to find him. Or if, now that he'd outrun Austin, he'd let Misae go into a world where nobody was left to even love him in secret any longer.

It was Eden and Anaya he needed to hide from now. Not because they might hurt him, but because he might hurt them. Wolves were most dangerous when the moon was full, calling on their nonhuman blood. 

It made them monsters - hungry, mindless killers. 

Everyone knew that.

Bill made sure everyone knew that. 

He watched the moonlight’s slow crawl along the small room until his eyes drifted shut and he dozed off, his tail flicking occasionally. Once the moon began to set in the morning, just as the sun rose, he’d be able to be a boy again. Until then, he could relax into the form he was far more comfortable in even if he had been painstakingly taught to fear what it was capable of.

He slept deeply enough to have fuzzy, formless dreams. He was beneath all of his family, trying to crawl out from under them. They called for him, cried for help, whined and whimpered and shouted and cursed. 

The air was being slowly crushed out of him, and he desperately tried to get out from beneath the weight of their deaths, their memories.

He looked up to see straight down the barrel of Austin’s shotgun, the black within the metal circle, holding his death.

Found you, Austin said, softly. Time to go, Rusty.

Fingers touched the top of his head.

Misae?

He jolted awake and snapped out of sheer instinct, ears flat in a flash and teeth clicking together. He didn’t quite catch anything, but as his eyes opened, he saw Anaya looking down at him, eyes wide, her hand jerked back against her chest. 

“Misae?” She repeated, voice a little shakier this time. She was wearing sleeping clothes, and Eden was just behind her, wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants that had Misae looking in jealousy at skin only scarred along the underside of his chest, two odd half-circle shapes that didn’t mean anything to Misae’s mind. “Holy shit.”

“DId he bite you?” Eden asked, an edge to his voice. “Anaya, if he bit you-... isn’t that how it-... it spreads?”

Misae curled up tighter, whimpering, his heart picking back up into a pounding race that made him dizzy. He tucked his tail as tightly as he could and looked up with his chin pressed against the floor, licking at his chops nervously.

 “Naya? Did he-”

“No, he didn’t,” Anaya replied, frowning back at Eden, before dropping into a crouch. “And we don’t know that that's how it spreads, or whatever. Or even if it does spread. Who even knows what’s real and what isn’t about werewolves?”

“Before yesterday, I would have told you nothing is real about werewolves,” Eden said, hovering behind her. 

“And you would have been wrong, wouldn't you. Besides, he was asleep. I woke him up, that’s on me, not him. Hey, Misae. Hey there, honey.” Her voice softened, and she shoved some of Misae’s barrier of boxes aside, until she could hold out her hand and lay it down with knuckles on floor and palm facing up, between them. “It’s okay, honey. It’s just me. Are you good? We were worried when we didn’t see where you’d gone. You were making some noise in here, I thought maybe something was wrong.”

Misae’s nose twitched. He eased forward, belly to the ground, until he could slowly lay his chin in her palm. She let one finger gently scratch at the soft fur there and he whined. 

“He’s okay,” Anaya whispered. “I scared you, huh? You were having bad dreams, I bet. Don't blame you, this has been a really weird day. Just... the weirdest. Can I ask why you're here in the closet?”

“There’s a joke about being a closeted werewolf in there somewhere, but I’m honestly not awake enough to make it,” Eden said, but he moved back until he could sit on the bed. He didn’t quite relax, not yet, but the space helped Misae to feel a little safer. Eden didn’t look - or smell - angry. 

“Oh, shut up,” Anaya said, rolling her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. She wasn’t angry, either. “And don’t spend all night coming up with it, either. I don’t want to hear it when we wake up.”

“Well, now I have to come up with something. I have to come up with something and have it be the literal first thing I say to you when we wake up,” Eden teased, flopping himself backwards onto the bed and wriggling under the blankets, sighing happily when he was covered up. “Oh, this comforter weighs a ton. Perfect.”

“For someone who likes to sleep in the absolute wilderness like a caveman, you sure love a weighted blanket.” Anaya snorted.

"If I'm a caveman, that means you like a caveman." Eden grinned. "Ha ha, you're in love with a Neanderthal," He sing-songed. Anaya threw up a middle finger over her shoulder in his general direction, and Eden's smile only widened.

Misae wondered what a Nee-ander-tal was as his eyes flicked to the side, taking in the window, looking for the moonlight. To his relief, the curtains were closed.

The room was dark, now, except for a small lamp they’d turned on by the bed. There was no chance of the moon catching at his fur, calling him to hunt, to rip and tear and rend. 

Misae pushed himself slowly onto his feet, ignoring his throbbing back leg. Anaya smiled at him, and it felt like a reward. His heart beat faster for new reasons, and he followed her as she eased back and away from the closet, pushing past the boxes. 

When Anaya sat on the air mattress on the floor, Misae moved slowly onto it as well until he could lick at the corners of her mouth with his tail tucked underneath him. She laughed and pushed lightly at him, and he moved to lay on his side, paws curled to show her his stomach, baring his vulnerable throat.

“He likes you,” Eden commented idly from up on the bed. “Pretty sure that’s wolf for ‘you’re cool, let’s be buds.’ Also I think it means he thinks you're in charge."

"I am in charge," Anaya said, voice haughty, but there was laughter lining every word. "It's good that both you boys know it."

Misae shifted back onto his stomach and curled back up until his tail covered his nose. Anaya smiled at the sight, reaching out to scratch the top of his head. Misae sighed, eyes drifting closed again. He relaxed under the gentle affection. “There you go. All right, what matters is that you're okay. Let’s try to get some sleep, yeah? All three of us.”

He watched her stand up, ears drooping as she climbed into the real bed, next to Eden. He watched her get under the blanket, laying next to Eden. He laid on the floor where wolves belonged, missing the warmth of his family. Missing the den. Alone, here, on the ground. Werewolves weren't meant to be alone - he knew that, not from Bill or Austin but from how perfect it had felt in the den, in the kennels, when they were all together.

Anaya turned off the lamp, and darkness overtook the room.

The humans, he thought, would be blind in the dark. Misae could see everything, though. He could see the silvery moonlight held back by the curtains, could see Eden’s chest rise and fall, slowing as he slipped into sleep. He could see that Anaya stayed awake a while longer.

He listened to her breathing, holding back his whimpers until it slowed and deepened and he knew he wouldn't wake her. He could lay here, alone.

Well.

Not entirely alone. 

His family was here, even if they weren’t. They would never leave him, not fully, not all the way. Even now he could feel them nosing around him trying to find a comfortable spot. He knew the pressure of their bodies around him like he knew his own paws. He could feel their chill breath on his neck, the soft nuzzle of affection that he would never really feel again. He could sense snuffles and whines, jostles for position that sometimes ended with playful snarling and rumbling growls. He could feel Nina’s weight on top of him. Feel her body jerk with the shots she had taken that he hadn’t. He could hear them, in his heart, howling just outside the little house.

He could hear their cries, begging him to join them. He should have slept for the last time in the big grave with the rest of them. He had been meant to die with his family. He wasn't the fastest in his family, the smartest, the best hunter. He wasn't anything better than anyone else.

There was no reason for him to survive, no special ability or way of being he had that made him deserve this bed with its soft blankets when everyone he loved was quiet and cold in the ground, covered in dirt and decomposing now.

He hadn’t deserved to meet kind humans. He didn’t deserve to eat pizza until his stomach ached and sit in chairs. He didn't deserve hot water to clean the dirt and blood from his skin. Others in his pack had deserved it so much more, and they had been given silver bullets instead, and now...

Now Misae was the only one left who remembered them.

He closed his eyes against the way the darkness wanted to change shape, to make him see his dead family with all the blood and bullets. He listened to their wistful, spectral howls, just outside the window. Calling and calling and calling, crying to him and to each other.

Why you? Why not us, instead? Why not the little pups, why not the mothers, why not the older wolves who had been good for so long? You were never all that good. What about you deserved to live? Why not us?

Why was it you?

Anaya and Eden slept together.

Misae slept with ghosts.

-

@finder-of-rings  @burtlederp @deluxewhump @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings 

@yassifiedinformation @wildfaewhump @whatwhump @honeycollectswhump @tundra-tiger

@dont-look-me-in-the-eye @there-will-always-be-blood @fangedcinnamonroll @pigeonwhumps @yassifiedinformation

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[ancientbygone]

i didn’t do it, i didn’t do it for love; what did i do it for?

[sequel piece to kill the sparrow]

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

started watching the new live action avatar

it’s. It’s pretty ok I guess? But there’s a lot of things I’m not altogether happy about. It feels very. Generic. Which is kind of sad.

I’m only two episodes in though, so I won’t be too harsh. But there are a few things that I really don’t like, and number one was Aang going into the Avatar State in front of Sokka and Katara for the first time when seeing Monk Gyatso instead of when escaping Zuko, and that moment being isolated instead of the moment everyone in the world knew the Avatar had returned

in the original series, Aang goes into the Avatar State when confronted by irrefutable proof in the form of the skeleton of his best friend and mentor - the airbenders really were massacred and he can no longer deny it.

every statue of the Avatar around the globe lights up in a single moment. the legendary figure’s destined return is announced to the world by an overwhelming outpouring of grief and rage from a young child who just discovered that everyone he ever knew and loved is gone. it’s poignant. the Avatar’s return in that moment is not a triumph. that terrifying show of strength and power, enough to light up the world in its glow, is pure emotional anguish from a small twelve year old, who just saw the dead body of his mentor and now believes he is all alone

and Katara and Sokka having seen the Avatar State before means that there is less of the shock and “what is happening” in this pivotal scene (which was the main focus in the live action). of course Sokka is still concerned about them potentially getting flung off the mountain. but both of them know this reaction for what it is - mysterious power, sure, but primarily, they see and recognize his grief.

I just. what happened to “we’re your family now” and “neither of us are gonna let anything happen to you”??? :(

on a side note, I do feel like Katara and Sokka themselves have been heavily (heh) watered down. it’s a shame. Sokka’s my favourite, and I just think that I. Don’t trust writers with Katara now. (Why is her waterbending a secret? The whole reason she didn’t learn was because there was no one to teach her and she couldn’t leave… also where is her instant connection with Aang… where is their silliness… where did it go…)

however! I did like a couple things that were done and I want to be a bit positive so here

love Zuko and Suki’s actors. they did a great job

Sokka and Suki’s training together was cute ☺️ (though I wish he had worn the uniform of the Kyoshi Warriors…)

Aang himself is adorable :) (wish he got to be a little more silly but Netflix adaptations always are more serious for some reason)

I actually kind of enjoyed getting to see some of the scenes from the war’s outbreak. I prefer the way the original show portrays it, with a lot of info being learned reverse chronologically, but it was cool to see Sozin, and some of the airbenders, and a little more of Gyatso (who I also really enjoyed :’) )

Katara bending water at Aang and it reducing to them splashing each other without even trying to bend. Rare sillies!

I thought Kyoshi herself coming to defend her island was pretty sweet!!!

Katara getting flashbacks to her mother’s death on seeing firebending. Well I don’t like this, obviously, but it clearly shows how her mother’s death haunts her, and if they have Katara face off against Zuko again at the North Pole, it’ll be all the more triumphant.

Suki’s mom!!! Damn she was so cool!!!!!!

[blue-eli]

Realised it’s @khoc-week so even though I don’t have the energy to do it daily have this I did a while ago but never posted.

Arxeht my beloved. They came to me in a dream where I was a replica (of multiple people but looked most like Vidar) made by apprentice Nort/Xemnas, who was the fifteenth member of the organisation and also had my knowledge of hit video games Kingdom Hearts and kept getting randomly thrown through space and time.

[papercutsmp3]

bro is inquisitive

[kuromi-hoemie]

i just finished iron blooded orphans and need to lay down for a bit

[mxdotpng]

i could fix final fantasy 15 i know i could i know it. i could. i could.

[bloominstorm]

They really setting up my baby Yuuji’s death..

[wander-over-the-words]

SOMEONE PICK UP THE BLOODY PHONE

CAUSE I FUCKING CALLED IT

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[clownwritesfanfic]

So Come One, Come All - Five Hargreeves X GN! Reader

Summary: After you find out that your husband of 40 years cheated on you with his own brother’s wife, you give up on figuring out how to fix the apocalypse and run off. That’s when you’re lead to a suspicious deli full of the exact face you never wanted to see again.

Word count: 1647

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Cheating, Heartbreak, Happy Ending, rushed writing, not beta read we die like men

Disclaimer: Five is canonically in the body of an 18 year old in this season. Not to mention he aged like 7 more years with Lila. Also, obvious Season 4 spoilers. This season was awful and Five was done so dirty and he’s still ooc in this fic (or at least a version of him is)

———————————————————————

You had no idea how long you had been walking for. All you knew was that you were tired.

Tired of everything. Of the constant apocalypses, the fighting, the stress, …the lying, the heartache. Everything.

You had to get away from that place. You couldn’t stand to be around anyone from that family anymore. Around…him.

You and Five have been married for forty years. You both met in the first apocalypse as teens. You weren’t special like him or his siblings but you were both grateful to have someone else around.

You slowly fell in love over the years as you grew older together. You had a makeshift marriage with a ring Five had made for you out of random bits of metal he had found.

You had both been recruited into the Commission together and quickly became the most badass couple in the entire organization. You were always put on missions together for your efficiency and speed.

You had followed Five back in time to see his family, consequently getting stuck in your younger body as well. You followed him everywhere. You would’ve given your life for him.

So, how could he do this to you?

Forty years, thrown away all because he supposedly got stuck for seven fucking years in a stupid timeline traveling subway station with another woman.

You wanted to kill him. He knew that you didn’t like how comfortable Lila was with him since the beginning and he had assured you he wasn’t interested in her at all and that you were all he wanted. What a load of bullshit that was.

You had left after their explanation. You saw the way he looked at her. The exact same way he used to look at you. For him at had been years since he last saw you. For you, it had only been a few hours since he last looked at you like you were the world.

You had slipped off the wedding ring and threw it at his face before leaving. You could hear him trying to get you to stay and try to follow you but he was stopped by Diego.

You were so lost in thought before you found yourself in front of the entrance to a subway station. This must be the one they were talking about. You looked behind you, making sure no one had followed you but also as a way to look back on this life.

If they were telling the truth about the timelines…then you weren’t going to be coming back to this one. Maybe there is a timeline where you’re happy. One where you and Five don’t meet. Or maybe one where none of this happens. Where you’re both a normal married couple.

You took a deep breath as you gazed down the steps. Once you took your first step down, you knew there was no going back.

As you descended the steps, the eerie silence unnerved you. You could hear only your footsteps on the ground and the squeaking of the turnstile as you pushed through it.

You were startled by the sound of the speakers playing some sort of announcement. It was impossible to understand considering it was all backwards.

Soon, the subway entered the station and came to a halt. The doors opened and you stood still, you were still a little creeped out. Five always made you feel more comfortable in situations like this…but he wasn’t here anymore.

You swallowed your unease and entered the subway car. You slowly took a seat and looked around before the doors closed and the subway started moving. You looked out the window as flashes of colour went by.

You were there for a couple minutes before you stopped. The doors opened but you didn’t get up. You weren’t sure if you wanted to get off yet. You wanted to be sure you were as far from the timeline you were just in as possible.

You felt something pull inside of you though. Something wanted you to get off and explore. So you did.

You let yourself be guided by this feeling deep inside. It was like your heart was pulling you somewhere.

It isn’t long until you end up in front of a building of some kind. Could you even call it that? You never left the station and it’s the only other place in here. Is it more of a building in a building? You didn’t want to think about it too much.

The words “Max’s Delicatessen” were shining brightly in your face. You were a little amused. Maybe you were hungry and it was actually your stomach bringing you here rather than your heart.

You sighed and decided to check it out.

But when you entered, you were horrified at what you saw.

The entire deli was full of copies of your (now ex) husband. This was the last thing you wanted to see and you internally cursed at your conscious for bringing you here.

You could feel your heartbeat pick up and your breathing become heavy as tears pricked at your eyes.

Finally, one of the Five’s had looked up and noticed you stuck in place at the door.

“Darling!” He shot up out of his seat, audibly hitting his knee on the table but he didn’t flinch.

Suddenly, every single Five in the place had his eyes on you, each with various emotions displayed on their face.

The Five that spotted you quickly made his way over to you. He lifted his shaking hands and held them over your cheeks, too scared to make contact in case you fade away.

You could see the disbelief and love in his eyes. This snapped you out of your confusion and slapped his hands away from you and backed yourself up into the door.

The Five in front of you looked confused and hurt before sighing and lowering his hands.

“Sorry…I forgot that you’re not the same one.” He apologized.

“What the FUCK is going on?” You exclaimed as you looked around to be met with all the Five’s still staring at you. “How did you get here? Why are there multiples of you? Why can’t you just leave me alone!”

“Woah, woah, slow down. Breathe. You’re okay. Everything’s fine.” The Five in front of you tried to calm you down. “You took the subway right? This is a different timeline. We’re all the same person from different timelines. Usually the only new people that enter here are a version of me…or…us I guess. You’re the only…well…you, that has shown up here.” He explained.

“What?” You looked at him like he was crazy.

“They should sit down.” Another Five had said.

“Come on, hun. Come sit down and we can talk.” He had reached out towards you, careful not to touch you while he guided you towards the opposite end of the booth he was previously at.

You sat down, still in shock. It felt weird being surrounded by so many Five’s. Especially when you were trying to get away from him.

“I guess I’ll start.” Five had sat down across from you and sighed.

“In my timeline, you and I had been together for years. We met at the Commission. At first we hated each other but we were always put on missions together. Over time…I had fallen for you, and luckily for me, you reciprocated those feelings. We were together romantically for years. We were on our last mission before our contract with the Commission ended. We were planning on getting married after and retiring somewhere nice. But…it went wrong…and I lost you. You died in my arms.” He looked off to the side and tried to play off wiping away his tears.

“I haven’t seen you in years. You’re just as beautiful as the day I lost you.” He reached a hand across the table and gently placed it on yours.

You teared up as you saw the pure love in his eyes. Your Five used to look at you like that and it still hurt knowing he no longer felt that way.

“If you’re here…then something must’ve happened to the Five in your timeline.” He rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand.

You stilled and took your hand back, making the Five in front of you frown.

You hugged your torso for comfort and curled in on yourself slightly as you looked down at the table.

“We were married for forty years…but he got stuck in the subway with Lila and…I guess forty years didn’t mean anything because in seven years he threw it all away for…her.” You hiccuped as you tried to hold back your tears.

There were multiple grumbles and scoffs around the deli.

The Five across from you reached across the table and held your shoulder gaining your attention.

“Everyone here had a version of you in their timeline. We all lost you in one way or another. I think I speak for all of us when I say…having you here is the best thing to happen to us, and he’s a complete idiot for throwing you away like that.” He smiled as he lightly caressed your cheek.

You smiled slightly at his words.

“Aww there’s that beautiful smile.” Five said as he lightly pinched your cheek.

You giggled and batted his hand away and wiped your tears away.

A sandwich and drink was placed in front of you and you looked up to another Five holding a now empty tray.

“Your favourite, just the way you like it.” He said as he gently grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it with a wink.

You blushed at the action and thanked him.

Even though you got on that train in order to get away from him…you don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon.

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.